


Sleepless in Skyhold (Part V)

by SisterAmell



Series: Sleepless in Skyhold [5]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Oral Sex, Sexual Frustration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-10
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-22 05:43:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3717283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SisterAmell/pseuds/SisterAmell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is past midnight when the Commander's mountain of duties has finally been cleared. He is tired, aching from the tension that grips his bones, and in need of release. But that is no simple task. He does not know whether he should go to the Inquisitor, or whether perhaps she is planning to return tonight. Uncertainty breeds paranoia. What if she is finished with him? It is possible that she came to him last night on a whim, seeking physical satisfaction and nothing more. No words of love had been exchanged. No promises had been made. Cullen is afraid that his dream-like encounter with Petani is over and he must return to the cold reality of wakefulness. She is the Inquisitor. They are at war. Was it wrong for him to hope for something more? The questions eat away at him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sleepless in Skyhold (Part V)

Cullen had been in an immeasurably foul mood when he'd gone to deal with the 'urgent' matter. Finding a few young Mages threatening the guards and demanding to be allowed to leave the stronghold, he had blazed through the crowd like a tornado, wrenched the staff from the grasp of the lead troublemaker, and snapped it in two across a sharp knee. The Mage had attempted to conjure some manner of spell, but Cullen had floored him with a swift blow to the jaw. The others – young and frightened – had surrendered immediately. The Commander had then spent a good ten minutes shouting at his men, demanding to know why they had allowed the situation to reach this point. Then he had the recalcitrant Mages arrested for causing minor injuries to his soldiers. Given a few hours in the stocks, they would no doubt calm down. Cullen, however, would require a lot more than that.

There was no let up for him that day. Bouncing between tasks, called upon for what seemed like ridiculous and pointless decisions by every member of the Inquisition, he barely had a moment to himself. Worse still, he had not caught a glimpse of Petani Lavellan since their lusty morning exertions had been interrupted. At every shadow in his doorway, every turn he took, he had looked for her to no avail. He thought of her frequently – distractingly so. His skin would heat up at the memory of the torrid passions he had shared with her, and he constantly had to fight to regain his focus on work. The hours had dragged on agonizingly.

It is past midnight when the Commander's mountain of duties has finally been cleared. He is tired, aching from the tension that grips his bones, and in need of release. But that is no simple task. He does not know whether he should go to the Inquisitor, or whether perhaps she is planning to return tonight. Uncertainty breeds paranoia. What if she is finished with him? It is possible that she came to him last night on a whim, seeking physical satisfaction and nothing more. No words of love had been exchanged. No promises had been made. Cullen is afraid that his dream-like encounter with Petani is over and he must return to the cold reality of wakefulness. She is the Inquisitor. They are at war. Was it wrong for him to hope for something more? The questions eat away at him.

“What are you, some lovesick maiden?” he growls to himself, pacing his office like a caged animal. “Enough of this foolishness!”

Overriding his own anxiety with self-directed anger, he storms out of the tower, sweeps across the bridge, and barges in on Solas' tranquil haven. The elven apostate rises from his seat to greet him, but Cullen has no patience for pleasantries tonight; he silences Solas with just a glare and continues through towards the throne room. _I will not waste time second-guessing myself. I shall confront her directly. Whatever her answer may be, I will accept it._ His mind is barraging him with unsympathetic lectures, trying to rouse his courage. He refuses to admit even to himself that his knees feel weak and his hands are shaking a little. He is a soldier. He does not fear something so harmless as rejection.

The walk to the Inquisitor's quarters is painstaking. Cullen curses the architect who positioned the master suite so far from his tower. At last he reaches the door beyond which the object of his every desire awaits, and he is overcome with doubt. What should he say? Will she think that he has come just to claim the stolen finale of her sexual favour from this morning? He must seem so desperate! With a deeply furrowed brow, Cullen stands restlessly before the Inquisitor's door, running his fingers through the back of his hair as he attempts to bring his nerves under control. Why does the thought of seeing her again cause him pain? He aches deep within, throughout every inch of his body. He feels powerless, unsure.

It is with an unsteady hand that he eventually knocks, and the sound is pathetically soft. Clenching his jaw, he tries again with firmer knuckles. There is no response from within. The wait is torture. He raps on the dark wood a third time, but the echo fades into silence when there is no movement from Petani's quarters. The Commander sags against the wall, releasing a trembling breath and resigning himself to the fact that his lover is fast asleep. _She retired to her bed without me... She did not come, and she did not wait. Did she even think about me at all?_

Cursing his own naivety, Cullen moves away from the threshold and begins the long walk back to his empty tower. Rather than face Solas a second time, he takes the winding ramparts. The night air is gentle, despite the inhospitable mountains that surround Skyhold. The climate within the walls seems constant, mild like the Autumn, as if by magic. The jewelled sky of velvet and the bronze-flecked foliage below do little to assuage his dark mood. He trudges across stone bridges and through unused towers in something of a daze, bitterly disappointed, and in no hurry to reach his bed. As he approaches his abode, he glances up at the window and is not surprised to find it dark. Even the candles in his office have burned down.

The climb up to his sleeping quarters is made blindly, but Cullen is not hindered by the gloom. He makes his way across the creaky floorboards while unbuckling his armour with practised ease. The gauntlets and plates fall to the floor in his wake, his luxurious mantle pooling at his feet and left there. With a sigh, the Commander removes the last of his layers of clothing and lowers himself to the bed. He is warm from his racing heart and the lengthy walk across half of Skyhold, so he pushes the bedsheets aside and rolls over with his naked back bared to the sky. His face sinks into the pillow. When he inhales he can still smell Petani as if she is beside him. He lifts his head. Previously obscured by the sheets, he now sees a streak of green glowing amid the black. He scrambles up onto his knees in alarm.

“Surprise?” lifts a smiling voice from the shadows.

“Maker's breath! Petani!” Cullen reaches out towards the green light. He feels the glorious sensation of a slender hand meeting his own. “I had thought- I didn't expect-”

“I've been waiting for almost an hour,” the Inquisitor says, drawing him back down to the mattress. “Where have you been?”

Joy and relief flood through his body as he finds Petani's face in the dark and runs his fingertips along her delicate jaw. He entwines himself in her hair. “It doesn't matter,” he replies with a breathy chuckle. “You're here.”

The elf girl brushes her cheek against his hand and he can feel the pinch at the apples of her cheeks, lifted in a broad smile. She shifts closer to him and suddenly Cullen can feel her body – utterly naked. His breath pours out in a shuddering, lusty sigh. He is instantly hard. Slipping his arms around her back, he presses her soft breasts to his own chest. She gives a little chirp of surprise.

“Oh, _someone_ is happy to see me...”

Cullen burrows his face into the crook of her neck and laughs. His obvious arousal is pressing at her thigh. “Mmm, you have _no_ idea...” he murmurs huskily.

Petani rubs her leg up and down his, nudging his erection with her knee. Cullen trembles as he tilts his pelvis to bring his tip to the juncture of her cunt, lips parted as his breaths grow heavier. He leans in to kiss her. At the same moment they both release a needy moan as their moist lips slide together. Cullen threads his tongue through the soft gates, hungry for her taste, crushing his nose into hers and causing his grizzled facial hair to scrape along her skin. Her fingers dance along his throat and rake through his hair. Tighter, they curl. Harder, they pull. Cullen grunts into her mouth as he feels her gyrate against his body.

The room is black, invoking increased sensitivity in the lovers' other senses. The sounds that are rising from the bed are rich with want, filling the air with heat, and clawing up and down Cullen's spine. He kisses her as if she is the air and he cannot breathe. When her hands fall from his hair down to grip his shoulders, he takes a bite of her lower lip, then her chin, and then ravages her neck like a beast upon its prey. Petani gasps and sighs, rocking against him. Her smooth skin is so hot on his manhood that he feels ready to burst into flame.

“Cullen...” she moans. Her throat bobs beneath his wide open mouth. “Cullen, let me... finish this morning's – ohh – activity.”

He growls thickly as the memory racks his loins with tremors. Pushing his tongue hard against the flesh of her neck, he draws his lips in to suckle. He barely breaks contact when he pants: “If you do that, you'll end me...”

Disregarding his warning, Petani begins to slide down his body. She maintains firm contact between as much of their skin as possible, drawing her hands down the contours of his back, pushing her breasts into the muscular ridges of his abdomen. Her mouth nips and pouts all the way down. Cullen can feel every hair on his body rising to attention. He rolls onto his back and she brings her palms to rest on each of his thighs. Her warm breath surrounds his cock and makes it spasm – sweet Andraste, even her breath feels too wonderful!

“No holding back,” her lusty voice fills the darkness. “I want to hear you. And I am _not_ releasing you from my mouth until I taste your pleasure...”

“Oh, Maker... Are you- are you sure you want me to...?”

He feels her fingers stroke inwards to meet at the edges of his shaft. One thumb teases his testicle and he inhales sharply. Blind and helpless, Cullen clenches his fists and prepares himself for the impending onslaught. Her tongue locates the swollen head of his manhood. Her hands close around his base. Smooth, wet pressure engulfs him and he arches up from the mattress with a groan.

“Yes!” he howls as he plunges deep into her mouth and his every nerve ending is set alight. “Oh, Petani!”

His head jerks forward and hits the pillow once more. Petani sucks on his cock with messy, noisy circles of her tongue, and he is overwhelmed with maddening sensations. She swallows him to the back of her throat, as far as she can manage, and then begins to knead the remaining exposed length with her hand. Again and again she drags back and drives down. The inside of her mouth is vibrating in the most wonderful way, filled with her hums and moans. Cullen's head thrashes from side to side, surrendering his voice to the night, shouting her name, growling uncontrollably, and gasping for air.

“ _Fuck!_ Ah! Fuck, yes! I'm almost- I can't-”

She intensifies her ravenous attentions at the shocking sound of vulgarities on his lips. Cullen's entire body has gone tense, driving up at her, quivering violently as white hot pleasure engulfs him. He snatches up a clump of her hair and drags her roughly down on himself. Her teeth rake along his girth, sharp points that are quickly soothed by her coiling tongue. She pumps at his shaft hard and fast, sucking him mercilessly and meeting his thrusts with saliva streaming down his member. Cullen feels his balls wrench in one last throb of delicious pain.

“ _Petani!”_

The walls resound with his mighty roar. In sweet abandon, the Commander lets go of his final shred of control and bursts freely into his lover's mouth. It is not over. She is drinking him, sucking the juices from the head of his cock as if demanding more. Cullen is spasming wildly, moaning her name over and over as she feeds on his climax. His sensitivity has reached almost unbearable heights – every brush of her tongue leaves him shuddering helplessly beneath her. In rasping whispers he begs for her to have mercy. It seems an age before his pleasure ebbs away. He is bathed in sweat, hot and cold, and trembling uncontrollably. His breaths are haggard in his ears. Petani dips her tongue into the ridge at his head and sends a jolt through him.

“Sweet, holy Bride of the Maker,” Cullen chokes out. “Petani, that...”

Her heat rescinds. She climbs up his body to curl into his arms. She chuckles with an exhausted rush of breath. “Was it good?”

He clings to her like a life raft on the stormy seas, panting into her hair and loving the sensation of their damp skin sticking together. “I have _never_ experienced anything so... incredible... I thought I would not survive it.”

“Worth the wait, then?”

He laughs hoarsely. “Worth a _lifetime_ of waiting _.”_

 


End file.
